How the Fire Crackles
by bertiebert
Summary: Days would go by, their lives would move on, but as long as they had each other not much else mattered.


_**How the Fire Crackles**  
><em>

_Atlanta, Georgia  
>c. February 1923<em>

There was a soft clinking coming from the kitchen, and Matthew blinked drowsily. Sitting in Alfred's cushiest armchair beside the fire had to be the best sensation he'd ever felt. Although he was in one of Alfred's southernmost states, it was still very cold. It wouldn't stay cold as it did most of the time in his home country, but it was chilly at the moment. When they'd arrived home, Alfred had draped a blanket over Matthew and pushed him into the chair. He'd claimed Matthew needed to relax for the rest of night, and the Canadian hadn't fought it. Matthew was startled when a mug was sat on the end table beside the chair. A hand, radiating the chill of his climate at the time of year, carded through Matthew's hair before warm lips touched his forehead. Too sleepy to protest, Matthew let Alfred collect him into his arms. Alfred took Matthew's place in the chair, cradling the smaller nation against his chest.

"Hot chocolate?" Alfred asked softly, his voice lilting with the accent he so often hid.

"Mmm," Matthew agreed, taking the slightly warm mug from his brother.

Matthew just adored the way Alfred doted on him—a hand stroking through his hair, soft kisses across his face, the back rubs before bed or first thing in the morning, and the sweet pet names that always escaped. There would never come a time that he didn't enjoy Alfred's affection.

They rested there for minutes before either of them spoke. Matthew was tracing his finger underneath Alfred's red suspender, his head resting on his brother's shoulder. Alfred had been patting Matthew's leg in a slow rhythm, occasionally nuzzling his nose into Matthew's hair. It was the small gestures from the other that usually did them in.

"I'm glad you got to come down and visit me," Alfred said, keeping his voice light and almost a whisper.

"Me too," answered Matthew in little more than a breath.

"Go to sleep." Alfred tucked some of Matthew's hair behind his ear, taking the mug from his cold hands. "I'll watch over you."

Unable to resist the soothing timbre of Alfred's voice, Matthew cuddled closer and nestled his head in the crook of the American's neck.

* * *

><p>The next evening found them in the same position, except Matthew was much more alert. He buried his face in Alfred's shoulder, whimpering softly as his brother's fingers pressed against the bundle of nerves deep inside him.<p>

"Al," Matthew choked out, muscles tightening around Alfred's fingers.

"Shhh," Alfred hushed, smirking when Matthew arched his back wantonly. "Almost done, sweetie."

He knew the pet names put Matthew in the prime position for persuading. The northern nation wouldn't be able to deny him anything if he used just the right term of endearment.

When Matthew was finally able to sink down onto Alfred's member, he sighed almost happily and tangled his fingers in the American's blond hair. They quickly found their natural rhythm, a slow, smooth rocking that had Matthew panting soft puffs of breath against Alfred's ear and Alfred choking on his moans. The blanket was quickly discarded as a sweat broke out on their skin, making it hard to gain purchase when fingers attempted to grip narrow hips. But Alfred held tightly and Matthew just rocked with Alfred's slippery guidance.

It was over far too quickly for their liking, but they snuggled in close to one another to bask in the sweet aftermath. Alfred pressed kisses into Matthew's hair, rubbing his brother's back lightly and occasionally massaging out any knots of tension he found. He had the younger nation practically purring after a few minutes and smiled in victory.

"Was it alright?" Matthew whispered, not really wanting to be heard.

"It was great, honey. You have nothing to worry about," Alfred assured him, splaying his fingers on Matthew's back.

As soon as Matthew shivered, the sweat cooling on his skin, Alfred held him close to lean down and snatch up his shirt. He pulled it onto his lover, rolling the sleeves up a bit and buttoning three middle buttons to hold it on. Also grabbing the blanket, Alfred wrapped them both up in the soft fabric and sighed contentedly when Matthew nuzzled against his neck before settling down. Not much was heard out of him again as he dozed against Alfred's chest.

* * *

><p>Collapsing in the armchair that he had grown attached to over the span of just a week, Alfred sighed heavily. He was chilled to the bone, his boss was angry with him, and there seemed no joy left in his day. That is, until Matthew came loping out of the kitchen with two mugs in his hands. He smiled that devastatingly handsome, <em>genuine<em> smile of his, and Alfred's mood was immediately lifted. His problems didn't seem so important and the only thing he desired at that moment was his lover and the mug he held. Eagerly accepting Matthew into his arms, he stole several kisses before taking one of the mugs. Matthew was smiling indulgently, his cheeks flushed and eyes averted. He was still so shy, but it never pushed Alfred away. If anything, it kept him interested. He wanted to get a reaction from Matthew, and adored anytime he achieved one.

"I take it your day went badly," Matthew commented, snuggling in close to Alfred's chest,

Strong arms wrapped around his waist, and Matthew glanced up at his lover. Alfred sighed and drank from his mug before resting his head back against the chair.

"It was awful," he finally said, dejected and exhausted.

"I'm so sorry, Al. I wish I could make it better," Matthew murmured, tilting his head back to study the other blond man.

"You are making it better, Mattie. Just holding you makes me feel better," Alfred sighed, kissing Matthew on the forehead. "I love you."

"I love you, too, _chéri."_ Matthew craned his neck to kiss Alfred, their lips molding together perfectly.

"Tell me about your day," Alfred prompted, bringing his hand up to push some hair behind Matthew's ear.

"Took care of some business back home over the phone. Then, Francis called and we talked for about an hour. He sends his love, by the way." Matthew rested his head against Alfred's shoulder, closing his eyes. "I couldn't wait for you to get home."

Alfred just chuckled and held Matthew. He pressed kisses against Matthew's hair, humming something softly. They stayed there for a while, basking in the warmth of the fire and the joy of just being together. There wasn't much that could compare to that moment and the way it made them feel. Days would go by, their lives would move on, but as long as they had each other not much else mattered.


End file.
